


Red Delicious Wishes

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Chance Meetings, DAficswap, F/M, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Reunions, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 13:49:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: Written for iamconfusedcius on Tumblr as part of the daficswap.
Prompt was Alistair meeting Kieran in a situation where he is the father.

Alistair thinks he recognises her. For a moment, he can almost hear her acerbic voice digging into his ears like an earworm. For a moment, he is no longer King, but merely an ex-templar, he is a Grey Warden, and he is surrounded by some of the best people that he has come to know. She had never been his favourite person, least of all people he wanted to have sex with– and he will never admit how good it had been, you will never pry that from his cold, dead lips. But he thinks that he recognises her, and… she has a child with her.





	

Alistair thinks he recognises her. For a moment, he can almost hear her acerbic voice digging into his ears like an earworm. For a moment, he is no longer King, but merely an ex-templar, he is a Grey Warden, and he is surrounded by some of the best people that he has come to know. She had never been his favourite person, least of all people he wanted to have sex with– and he will never admit how _good_ it had been, you will never pry that from his cold, dead lips. But he thinks that he recognises her, and… she has a child with her. 

His heart jerks into his mouth and then he is pushing himself forward, desperately trying to fight his way through the crowd. People are saying his name, cries of _King Alistair_ following him wherever he goes as it does, but he has caught a glimpse of that dark-haired child and that child is all that matters. 

The crowds part– they are wont to when the King is pushing himself through them– and he catches sight of dark hair and familiar eyes and they are pinned on him, watching him as she turns to make a no doubt hasty escape. He remembers being told that he would not be allowed to see the child, but– 

“Wait!” The word slips out unbidden, and more than one person look at him like he has lost his mind. He doesn’t care. He’s desperate. Here is his child, the child he will likely never see again, and he can’t… he cannot let them go without saying _something_. Anything. Just let him see them.

She does stop. He doesn’t know if it’s because she wants to or because there’s a crowd of people looking between him and her, or if it was the person who had dared to touch her shoulder and tell her the King wished an audience.

He comes to a panting stop next to her, looking between her and… his– his son. “... Morrigan,” he says, and has to drag his eyes away from the child. “It’s– um– good to see you.”

Morrigan seems to struggle for a response for a moment, and then gives him a smile Alistair does not expect to see from the apostate. It is much more soft than the Morrigan he had known years ago, and it is much, much more kind. “Likewise, it seems.”

“How have you been?” He tries for normal conversation, but his eyes are invariably drawn back to the boy standing next to Morrigan. He is watching Alistair curiously, and, as their eyes meet, the boy speaks.

“You’re the King of Ferelden.”

Something Alistair doesn’t recognise swells up in him, then; he doesn’t know if it’s fondness or adoration or just… being scared half to death because he has a _son_. To his great, _extreme_ embarrassment, he feels his eyes start to well up and he has to blink away a sudden onslaught of tears. Morrigan would never let him live it down.

“Yeah, I am,” he says, and it comes out croaky, and he curses internally, but a quick glance at Morrigan only shows her, if not a little uncertain, happy. “How did you know?” He has experience with children, and even moreso lately, when every parent wishes their son or daughter to associate with the King, but he is suddenly uncertain if he is doing this all wrong. He feels like he is fumbling. Nope, that must be a sign that he’s doing it right. He always feels like he’s fumbling.

“Mother tells me all about you. You helped the Hero of Ferelden to kill the Archdemon. I’m happy you did.”

“Yeah?”

“Archdemons are a little scary,” the boy continues, “so you must be really brave to have fought it.”

Alistair finds himself effortlessly folding himself down to his level, kneeling down to smile at him. He can’t see where he looks much like him. Maybe that’s a good thing. Didn’t need all of Ferelden making the connection about the King’s bastard son. Maybe the nose… “I think it was really the Hero of Ferelden,” he says softly. “Honestly, I was more worried about what time dinner was going to be each night.”

The boy laughs. The sound is like music. Is this… is this what paternal feelings were like? Alistair doesn’t think he wants them. He knows he can’t afford them. “It’s a good thing to worry about!” his son says, and looks up at Morrigan. “Are we going to eat soon, Mother? We could invite the King.”

For a blinding moment, Alistair can envision it: himself and Morrigan and his son, all sat down to dinner together. A family dinner. Something he has sorely missed. And still he knows better. He knows he cannot have that. At least, not with Morrigan… not with his son.

“I really don’t think–”

“The King has–”

Alistair stops, looks at Morrigan. She looks back at him and raises an eyebrow. He hastens to urge her to speak. “Sorry, go ahead.”

She looks back at his son… their son. “I’m certain the King has far more pressing matters to attend, Kieran.”

Kieran, he looks up at Alistair, and Alistair forces himself back into another smile. “Another time, perhaps.” Kieran. It’s a good name. A strong name, and still full of mystery and intrigue. Alistair wonders if Kieran is a mage. He wonders if Kieran knows of what he is. He wonders what Morrigan has told him of his father. Has she told him anything? A made-up story? Nothing at all?

He doesn’t know which is better, honestly.

“Okay.” Kieran’s gaze goes back to Morrigan. “Mother, can I buy some apples over there?” he asks, pointing at a nearby market stall.

“You have a knack for finding something to buy each time we come to town.”

“It’s only apples, Mother.”

Morrigan heaves a sigh, as if it is an inconvenience. But she is smiling, and reaches for her coin purse. “Very well. Only a few. We mustn’t let them go to waste.”

“Oh!” Alistair nearly tears his belt off to get to his satchel first. “Here, let me.” He fishes a few coins out and deposits them into Kieran’s hand, and feels weak at the knees when he beams up at him.

“Thank you!” And then he is walking away to the stall, and Alistair is watching him go, and he still feels weak as he does. He swallows, and swallows again, and turns to Morrigan.

“So… he’s… he’s… _him_ , is he?”

“Did you expect there would be another?” she asks, acerbic as he remembers but somehow still warm all the same. The tone still brings colour to his face, and makes him feel as though he has said something moronically stupid again.

“No! Well, I don’t know.” Kieran is sorting through apples with great care. “... Kieran, huh?”

“Yes.” Morrigan crosses her arms, and her shoulder bumps into his as they watch their son. He does not move away as he once might have. “‘Tis a curious thing.”

“What?”

“He has been… a complete joy.” She sounds almost… soft. “I didn’t expect.”

Alistair wants to scoff. He can’t. “He’s a kid, Morrigan. What _did_ you expect?”

“I hardly knew.” She glanced at him, and her lips pulled into a frown. “Children are dirty and ill-mannered, touching everything with their sticky fingers.”

“And you still wanted to conceive?” The _with me_ goes unspoken.

“‘Twas a necessary evil.”

“ _Evil_?” Alistair repeats.

“Because you were so sanguine,” she retorts. “You expected to loathe the event and you looked quite blissful, if I recall correctly.”

“Shhhh!” Alistair glances around quickly. No one is close enough to pay heed to their words, even if they are watching the King and his scantily dressed companion.

Morrigan clicks her tongue. “No one dares to eavesdrop, Alistair. They will not suspect.”

He is almost frozen by hearing his name from her tongue; the last time he heard that had been that fateful night in bed. But it brings up a greater question, and he dares to ask it. “What does he… what does he know of his father?”

“He knows… that his father was a great man,” Morrigan says slowly. “I thought you deserved that much.”

_Oh._ Alistair feels wobbly again. Years of being King has nothing on this.

“Do not get misty-eyed. I fear I cannot take an overabundance of honey-coloured words. Lest I vomit.” She looks away, and Alistair chokes out a wavering laugh.

“You ruined a perfectly good moment!” he accuses. “You really haven’t changed at all, have you!”

But she smiles as Kieran comes back, and so does Alistair, and so does Kieran. Even if this… situation is the weirdest thing he has ever been part of, Alistair is glad that he is.

“Here,” Kieran says, and holds an apple out to Alistair. “Mother taught me that it’s polite to share. Only if you want it…”

He shares a brief glance with Morrigan. If he could close his eyes, he could almost imagine adventuring with her and the rest of their company as if it were yesterday.

_Morrigan? Being polite? Ha!_

_I would be careful, unless you wish to be turned into a spider._

_You can’t… you can’t do that… can you?_

But it is not yesterday. He is King, Morrigan and he are no longer in company, and they both have a son despite it. A son with the soul of an Old God. And Alistair… still doesn’t really know what that means. He knows that he doesn’t want to know. Kieran is only a kid. He doesn’t want to know what’s going to become of him with this Old God thing. Especially if it’s bad. He doesn’t think he can handle it. He wants to stay in blissful ignorance. He wants Kieran to stay in blissful ignorance. For however long it can last.

“I’ll take it.” Alistair takes the apple from Kieran and cannot help placing his hand on the top of his head for a moment. One day, he knows that he will be expected to have kids. (One day soon, even, if the general public and the court has anything to say about it.) It will be different. No one will love them equally, if not more, for the simple fact that he will be with them. He will watch them grow. But no one else will understand… no one else will know about his first son.

Only him and Morrigan and the Warden, God bless her soul.

Morrigan permits him the small gesture; he can feel her looking at him but she says nothing about. And then she is speaking to Kieran, and Alistair is draw out of his reverie again.

“We must be getting on, Kieran. Mustn’t keep our King.”

“Yes. That would be bad.” (Maybe he does resemble Alistair a bit, after all.) “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

He will never get used to that. “Just call me ‘Alistair’.” He wonders if he is straying too  
close to dangerous territory.

“Alistair,” Kieran repeats.

“Let us go,” Morrigan says. “We do have dinner to make, if you wish to sup sometime tonight.”

“I’ll help.”

“I know. It was… good to see you again,” she says, glancing back at Alistair. “You will continue to do well as King, I expect.”

“And you might just keep on being a good mother,” he replies, almost joking, except he isn’t, and they both know it. _Raise him for the both of us._ It is another thing that he cannot say, and another thing he hopes that he can convey with a single glance.

Morrigan nods slightly, a motion meant only for him. She understands.

Kieran is ushered away and Alistair loses sight of them in the throng of people. He clutches the apple close to his chest, and continues to watch the spot that they vanished until one of his guard startles him back to his reality.

Morrigan has things to do. And so does he.

He hopes that, one day, he will meet Kieran again. He tries being an optimist on for size, and smiles as he walks back to the Castle. He will meet him again. One day, he is certain.

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure that I haven't yet played through with Morrigan having Kieran, but I watched the bit where Alistair met him and was only a tiny bit let down, so I wrote an alternate version. :>
> 
> I do not own _Dragon Age Inquisition_. Thanks for reading!


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